Bieber Fever
by WinterSky101
Summary: There's a petition on We The People, the official White House petition website, to deport Justin Bieber. It has over two hundred thirty thousand signatures. Enjolras is furious.


**So I'm publishing my first fic for a new fandom. A _respectable_ fandom. A fandom based on a book by Victor Hugo, a book that has spawned a famous musical and multiple movies.**

**And the fic is about Justin Bieber.**

**Sigh.**

**I'm basically Enjolras in this situation, where everyone thinks the petition is so funny and I just keep thinking "but people could be using their ability to petition in ways that would actually help make the government better!" but no one listens so I decided to use fanfiction to let my feelings out. I hope you guys enjoy it anyway.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Les Mis.**

* * *

Enjolras was furious.

"Of all the petitions people could be signing, they chose that one!" he muttered angrily as he walked past Combeferre to get to the coffee machine. "It's disgusting."

"What's disgusting?" Combeferre asked. Enjolras made a irritated noise in the back of his throat.

"The petition to deport Justin Bieber. I agree that he's a hideous singer and an obnoxious person, but the petition has over two hundred thirty thousand signatures!" Enjolras slammed his coffee mug on the counter. "Two hundred thirty _thousand_, Combeferre! Can you imagine what could be done if we could get half that number of people to sign a petition that actually _means_ something?"

"It is irritating," Combeferre replied, ever the mediator. Enjolras' only response was to make another disgusted noise and drink his coffee in one gulp before grabbing his bag.

"I'll see you at the meeting tonight," Combeferre called as Enjolras stomped out of their apartment. Enjolras just huffed. Combeferre couldn't help but smile a little, once he was sure Enjolras was out of sight. He understood Enjolras' point and agreed to it, but it was also so typical of Enjolras to let a little thing like that irritate him so much.

Combeferre pitied anyone that tried to cross him that day.

* * *

Enjolras' day, which had started out badly with that damn petition, only got worse when he arrived at work. He was a lawyer at a law firm that was well-known for taking cases that involved fighting any sort of inequality. The firm was run by a man named Lamarque, someone Enjolras respected deeply. It didn't hurt that most of his coworkers were his old friends. Normally, going to work was something Enjolras enjoyed, as strange as that may sound. But today, everything seemed as if it had been done specifically to annoy him.

Enjolras was greeted by his friend Courfeyrac, his oldest friend besides Combeferre. He was grinning widely, as he usually did. "How are you this fine morning?" he asked happily. Enjolras glared at him, taking the cheeriness as a personal offense.

"Have you heard about the Justin Biber petition?" Enjolras demanded. Courfeyrac's eyebrows went up.

"Good morning to you too," he replied. "I'm fine, thanks for asking."

"Don't be glib," Enjolras scolded. Courfeyrac rolled his eyes. "Have you heard about the petition?"

"The one to deport him?" Courfeyrac asked, walking alongside Enjolras as they entered the offices. "Yeah. I think it's kinda funny."

"It has over two hundred thirty thousand signatures," Enjolras replied between gritted teeth. Courfeyrac raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Wow. That's a lot."

"That's _ridiculous_," Enjolras proclaimed loudly.

"What's ridiculous?" Marius asked, stepping out from behind his desk. He was new to the firm and about as innocent as a newborn deer. He and his girlfriend Cosette were like something out of a romance movie. Enjolras never admitted that he found them a little adorable.

"The Justin Bieber petition," Enjolras growled. Marius frowned.

"What petition?" he asked. Enjolras grabbed his smartphone and opened up the webpage, shoving it in Marius' face. Marius blinked rapidly.

"Um, I can't read it if you shove it in my face," he admitted. Enjolras handed him the phone, gritting his teeth. Marius looked at the petition, then back up at Enjolras. "What's the problem?" he asked.

"Look at the number of signatures!" Enjolras hissed. Marius checked.

"Wow. Two hundred thirty five thousand, nine hundred four. That's a lot."

"That's despicable!" Enjolras snapped loudly. "Have you seen our petitions lately? We get maybe a few hundred signatures, at most. And this has twice the required number for the petition to be considered by the government! _Twice!_"

"Enjolras…" Marius looked a little worried. "It's alright."

"It is _not_ alright!" Enjolras snapped. He looked over at Courfeyrac for support, but Courfeyrac had made a hasty exit. Aware that no one else would take him seriously - and pissed off about it - Enjolras stomped over to his desk, sitting down and grabbing the case file in front of his computer. If he opened it a little more aggressively than needed, no one could blame him.

* * *

Enjolras almost skipped his lunch break that day. He would have, had Cosette not arrived and insisted that they all go out to lunch together, her treat. Marius, as enamored as always, agreed. Courfeyrac almost had to physically drag Enjolras out of the office, but regardless, Enjolras somehow ended up sandwiched between Courfeyrac and the wall in a nearby diner. Marius and Cosette sat on the other side, their bodies always touching at least a bit. Enjolras tried to leave, but Courfeyrac blocked his way out and wasn't at all willing to let Enjolras escape.

"'Ferre keeps telling me to make sure you eat," he told Enjolras strictly. "And that's what I plan to do."

"Courf!" Enjolras protested, but Courfeyrac was adamant in not letting Enjolras leave until he had eaten a full meal. Resigned to his fate, Enjolras ordered a salad when the waiter came over. Once he had fulfilled that requirement, he pulled out his phone and used the diner's free wifi to check his email. There was nothing important in his inbox. Even though he knew it would only make him angry, he checked the Justin Bieber petition again. Over a thousand people had signed since he had last checked. Disgusted, he turned off his phone and shoved it in his pocket.

"So how's work going, Cosette?" Courfeyrac asked as Enjolras rejoined the conversation. Cosette smiled.

"It's going well. The kids are great."

"Why aren't you teaching today?" Enjolras asked. Cosette was a music teacher at the local elementary school. It hadn't occurred to Enjolras until that moment that, considering it was the middle of the day on a Thursday, Cosette should have been working.

"It's a professional development day," Cosette replied. "But I only had one meeting to attend, and that was this morning. I'm free for the rest of the day."

"Will you be coming to the meeting tonight?" Courfeyrac asked. Cosette shook her head.

"Marius and I have plans, actually. We're going to see a movie."

"What movie?" Courfeyrac asked as he stamped on Enjolras' foot. Enjolras bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying anything.

"_Gravity_," Marius replied. "The one with Sandra Bullock in it."

"Really?" Courfeyrac asked. "I've been meaning to drag 'Ferre with me to go see that since it came out, but he's always busy."

"We'll tell you how it is," Cosette replied. Enjolras hoped the inane conversation would be finished soon. He was saved by the arrival of their food. His phone buzzed while he was eating, altering him to a text from Feuilly. _may be late to the meeting,_ it read, no explanation added. It wasn't necessary. Enjolras knew that Feuilly would only show up late to a meeting if he had no other choice, and the few other times it had happened, it had been because Feuilly had been working extra hours to supplement his meager pay. Enjolras couldn't begrudge him that.

_No problem,_ he texted back. Feuilly was one of the people for whom Enjolras fought, someone who had to work half a dozen odd jobs just to make ends meet. Enjolras wasn't about to scold him for doing what he had to do to get by.

Enjolras managed to successfully stay out of the conversation for the most part. As the meal began to wind down, he pulled out his phone and checked the Justin Bieber petition again. Over a hundred more signatures than there had been at the beginning of lunch. His fist clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white, Enjolras shoved his phone back into his pocket and stabbed at his salad as if it were the petition he so desperately wanted to rip to shreds.

* * *

After work, Enjolras returned home to an empty apartment. Combeferre had different hours than Enjolras did, meaning he left the apartment after Enjolras did, but he also returned home later in the evening. On nights where they had meetings, Combeferre would often go straight to the Musain without stopping at the apartment at all. It left Enjolras alone in an empty apartment for a few hours.

Normally, Enjolras used that time to either research things for Les Amis or write speeches. Today, it was the latter. He had planned to research the numbers on unemployment that they needed, but somehow he found himself writing an angry speech about the Justin Bieber petition, of all things. He couldn't believe he had let it get under his skin so much, but he couldn't help it. The fact that a stupid petition like that was getting so much attention when his worthwhile ones were ignored was infuriating. Enjolras was aware that it sounded like jealousy, but it wasn't. He wanted people to be interested in things that would help people, goddamn it, and deporting a stupid Canadian pop star wasn't one of them!

Enjolras' fingers flew across the keyboard, the words flowing out. When he finished the speech, he savagely hit the print button and watched as the printer spit out page after page, filled with his words. The speech ended up being three and a half pages in length. After rereading it and attacking it with a red pen, Enjolras had a two page speech that he thought was worthy of being read at that night's meeting. Surely the others wouldn't mind a change in pace.

The speech written, Enjolras began to research the unemployment numbers. Halfway through reading a website that made him steadily more and more frustrated, Enjolras' phone chimed to indicate a text from Courfeyrac.

_pls don't tell me ur gonna bring up the jb thing at the meeting tonight._

_It's infuriating!_ Enjolras replied, his fingers stabbing at the keyboard on his phone. _And yes, I plan on bringing it up._

_ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,_ Courfeyrac sent back. _just tell me u didn't write a speech._ Enjolras didn't respond. _u did, didn't u?_ Courfeyrac asked a moment later. _goddamn it e._

_It's an issue, Courf,_ Enjolras replied sternly. _You should care about it more than you do._

_i would argue, but i don't wanna take away r's fun,_ Courfeyrac replied. Enjolras knew he was right. Grantaire would derive far too much glee from watching Enjolras squirm about something as stupid as a pop singer.

That changed nothing, of course. Enjolras was going to read his speech at the meeting that night, and no one could stop him.

* * *

Enjolras arrived at the Musain before anyone else and got all of his things set up. Combeferre texted him to say that he was running a bit late, but he'd be there before too long. Enjolras sighed. He knew it wasn't Combeferre's fault, but he also wanted his support when he gave his speech on the Justin Bieber petition. Courfeyrac would laugh at him, Grantaire would find it entirely too hilarious, and before long he would lose control of the entire meeting. Enjolras could see it perfectly. But Combeferre could control all of the others, better than even Enjolras could. If he were there, he could keep the meeting in line.

Enjolras didn't realize he was gripping his speech so tightly he was crushing it until he heard a laugh from the doorway. He looked up to see Grantaire, entering with Bahorel, Joly, and Bossuet. "What's this?" Grantaire asked playfully, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Something's pissed off our fearless leader more than usual, and it's not me! I don't know whether I should be pleased or jealous."

Enjolras was about to retort with some angry comment when Courfeyrac entered, calling all attention to him, as he did every time he entered a room. The way in which he did it made Enjolras even more annoyed than usual, as he recognized the song Courfeyrac was blasting as a song written by the infernal Justin Bieber. Enjolras hated his music even more than he hated the petition, if possible, and listening to a prepubescent boy whine about his "baby" wasn't improving his mood in the least.

"Turn that off or I'll break your phone," Bahorel threatened from across the room. Courfeyrac obliged, grinning widely.

"I just thought we could start the meeting off with some music!" he protested. "Doesn't it add a little special something?"

"If by a little special something you mean the urge to drink myself into oblivion," Grantaire replied. Enjolras scoffed.

"As if that's anything new," he muttered, just loud enough for the others to hear. Grantaire took a pointed swig out of his beer bottle, making eye contact with Enjolras the whole time. Enjolras rolled his eyes.

"Combeferre and Feuilly will both be a little late," he told the others. "And Marius and Cosette won't be able to make it."

"Musichetta's working tonight," Joly added. "She swapped shifts with a friend. She won't be able to come."

"Éponine's little sister was arrested again, so she's got to deal with that," Grantaire put in. "I don't know if she'll get to the meeting at all."

"What about Jehan?" Enjolras asked. As if in response, the door opened and Jehan entered, his cheeks flushed from the cold.

"Sorry I'm late!" he apologized, hanging up his coat and sitting down. "I had these truly ghastly papers to grade. I've still got a few more, but I simply had to take a break."

"It's fine, Jehan," Enjolras replied, checking the time. "We haven't started the meeting yet anyway."

"What are we going to talk about anyway?" Joly asked. "Wasn't Feuilly going to talk about unemployment?"

"Depending on when Feuilly gets here, we might have to postpone that for the next meeting," Enjolras replied. "But I have something I'd like to talk about instead." He reached for the speech that was lying on the table and shuffled the pages into the correct order.

"Oh no," Courfeyrac moaned, burying his face in his hands. "You actually did write a speech. I was hoping you were joking."

"I have a feeling this is gonna be good," Grantaire muttered, grinning widely. Enjolras ignored him.

"For our meeting today, we'll be talking about the petition to deport Justin Bieber." Almost before Enjolras finished the sentence, Grantaire burst out laughing.

"You're joking, Apollo," he chuckled. "Is that our new cause? Deporting annoying Canadian pop stars?"

"No," Enjolras replied testily. "And I'd thank you to let me finish more than one sentence."

"Go ahead," Grantaire replied, waving a gracious arm. Enjolras gritted his teeth and began to read his speech. He tried to ignore the others. He really did. But Grantaire kept whispering to the others, and whatever he was saying made Bossuet start choking in an attempt to hold back his laughter (Joly nearly had a heart attack) and kept Jehan in a fit of giggles through the entire speech. Enjolras' voice grew more and more steely as Grantaire's whispers continued. When Combeferre arrived at the end of the speech, Enjolras couldn't have been more grateful.

"Combeferre!" Enjolras called, eager for support. "You missed my speech."

"Lucky bastard," Courfeyrac muttered. Enjolras ignored him.

"What was the topic of the speech?" Combeferre asked. Enjolras handed him the sheet. Combeferre's eyebrows raised a bit, almost imperceptibly. Enjolras wouldn't have noticed if he didn't know him. As it was, Enjolras and Combeferre had know each other for years, so Enjolras saw the eyebrow raise and knew what it meant.

"Interesting speech," was all Combeferre said, in a very mild voice.

"_Hilarious_ speech," Grantaire corrected. "I'm still half convinced it's a joke."

"It is _not_ a joke," Enjolras hissed. Grantaire sighed.

"It's a dumb petition to deport a dumb pop star. Calm down!"

"This is the most useless way people could be using their ability to petition!" Enjolras protested angrily. Grantaire raised an eyebrow.

"So basically, you're saying that you disapprove of what the people are choosing to do," Grantaire checked.

"I don't like it, no," Enjolras replied. Grantaire frowned, but it was obviously for show; his eyes were bright with mischief (and maybe a little alcohol).

"So because you don't approve of the way people are exercising their rights, they should stop? Does that make you no better than the people you fight in your law firm, the ones that attempt to take away people's rights? Who gave you the right to choose how people use their right to petition?"

"As usual, you've entirely missed the point, Grantaire," Enjolras snapped. "I'm not saying that people can't sign petitions like this. I'm simply irritated that people find this cause more important than causes that would actually help the average American."

"Enjolras, calm down," Joly suggested. "You're likely to make yourself ill if you don't stop working yourself up."

"You'll get Bieber Fever," Courfeyrac joked. Enjolras was about ready to kill everyone in the Musain. Combeferre wasn't helping as much as he was supposed to. Enjolras felt horribly betrayed.

"Look at the number of signatures!" Enjolras snapped, opening up the window and shoving it out towards the others. "Over two hundred thirty eight thousand! The White House is now forced to address this ridiculous petition when they have other far more important things they should be focusing on!"

"On which they should be focusing," Jehan corrected automatically. Enjolras glared at him. "Sorry. I've been correcting papers all day," Jehan defended. Courfeyrac rolled his eyes.

"Enjolras, just calm down."

"Yeah, Apollo," Grantaire added. "After all, weren't you just saying last week that the White House does nothing anyway? Thus, they wouldn't be focusing on those other things either way."

"They should be," Enjolras protested, aware that he sounded petulant. Combeferre sighed.

"Enjolras, sit down," he ordered. Enjolras did, forcing himself not to pout. "Now, we've all heard Enjolras' protest against the petition. Unless anyone else has something productive to add, I believe we should change the subject." Grantaire opened his mouth to say something, a mischievous grin curling his lips. "Only something productive, Grantaire," Combeferre reiterated. Grantaire sighed.

"Fine, Mom."

"I love it when you get all dominant," Courfeyrac sighed with a dreamy look on his face. Combeferre's ears went pink. Grantaire smirked. Enjolras glared at him. The tension could have been cut with a knife.

Feuilly burst through the doors at that moment, flushed and panting slightly. "What have I missed?"

* * *

When he woke up the next morning, Enjolras checked the petition again. Over two hundred forty thousand signatures.

At that point, Enjolras just threw his goddamn phone across the room.


End file.
